


Sweet Tooth

by but_im_danger



Category: Alternate Universe - Fandom, Bakery AU - Fandom, Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Bakery and Coffee Shop, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Other, Sassy Clint Barton
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-05-29 18:04:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6386953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/but_im_danger/pseuds/but_im_danger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being an assassin isn't all it's cracked up to be- especially when Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanov, and Clint Barton have to pretend to be bakers on top of it all. Things go smoother than planned until Bucky meets a certain blond with broad shoulders and gorgeous baby blues- then everything is turned upside down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at putting a story out there! I worked on this with a very good friend of mine (who will be credited at the end of this chapter, and forevermore because I could not have done this without her). 
> 
> If you don't ship/like Steve and Bucky, or Clint and Nat, i suggest looking elsewhere for a fic, as there's plenty of both of those ships here.

Bucky stepped inside the shop, lungs quickly filling with the fumes of paint. He grimaced as he looked around, finding Clint in the corner covered head to toe in sky-blue paint. Having heard the bell when Bucky opened the door, Clint turned around and gestured towards the color of the walls.

“What do you think? Nat said we should try for a relaxing color, and I think this is what she meant,” he said, putting the roller he was holding back into the pan. The room looked great- much better than the condition they had found it in. After hours of fixing drywall and plastering, most of the holes in the walls were fixed, and the ones that weren’t would soon be covered with pictures in frames. The blue color definitely gave the room a calming aura about it.

“Looks a hell of a lot better than it did a week ago,” Bucky said, nodding around as he took in the sight. “Reminds me, I brought you lunch,” he said, handing the greasy paper bag he was holding towards his paint-covered friend, who eagerly took it from him.

“You’re a Saint, man,” Clint said, quickly unwrapping his burger and sinking his teeth in. Bucky smiled, but shook his head.

“I ain’t no Saint,” he said, waving his hand dismissively while stepping more into the shop, looking around. Now, it wasn’t hard to imagine several small tables and chairs on one side with some more comfortable seating towards the large bay window.

“Furniture people are gonna be here on Saturday,” Clint said through a mouthful of beef, somehow reading Bucky’s mind. “I wanted to get the walls painted and the rest of this shit out of here before then.” Throughout the shop, power tools, cleaning supplies, paint samples, and actual paint gallons were scattered. For two weeks after they had officially signed the lease for this space, Bucky, Nat, and Clint basically lived here. The previous tenants did not take care of the space, nor did they leave very politely. Bucky had been hard pressed to find an expanse of wall with no damage to it. But, Nick had been adamant that this was the space they needed to launch their new business.

Not that it was really new. Assassins had been present all throughout history, but Bucky would be willing to bet that very few of these people worked in a bakery to avoid suspicion. Until recently, the trio would have been in the vast majority of assassins who were not; but after some intense security breaches at SHIELD, Director Fury thought this course of action was appropriate.

So, a month later, here they were, refinishing an old bakery on a quaint side street in Brooklyn; just close enough to the epicenter of the city to have a nice clientele, while far enough away to avoid much of the traffic. At first, Bucky jumped at the opportunity. He had grown up in Brooklyn, not far from where the bakery was located. Though his parents had long passed, the memories remained fresh, and Bucky made sure to walk by his old apartment building a few times a week. Clint, on the other hand, totally hated the idea.

 

_“I’m not a damn baker!” He’d hollered at Fury, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. Fury remained calm, in control of the situation like he always was._

_“I’m not asking you to be a baker, and that alone should earn me an award for public service,” Fury remarked back sharply, glaring lightly at the archer. Clint let his hands fall to his sides then, but he was still not happy about the idea. “Worst comes to worse, we can hire bakers. We just need you three to get the job done.”_

 

“The Job” is what separated this bakery from all the others, probably anywhere. What else would a group of assassins be doing in New York if not to, well, assassinate? Very few people would ever expect bakers to be killers, and to the public, that’s what they would be. Bakers, just bakers. The idea was staggering at first, especially for Natasha. She would have little to no protection, no identity to hide behind. When she voiced her concerns, Fury cut in again, calming any tension. They’d be safe, he’d said. The targets they’d be after would not think to suspect them- and nor would anyone else.

But, why bakers? They could have taken any under-the-radar job in the world, but bakers had a special way of getting in to certain events. Events were held in New York nearly every week, and these events required flowers, food, music, and last but not least- bakers. Events were a sure way in to get close to their targets. Politicians, policemen, and corrupt persons of power all attended these events. But more importantly, Bucky, Natasha, and Clint would have nearly unlimited access to these targets.

Now, the actual job was very simple. During dessert, one of the assassins would simply inject a certain serum into a pastry destined for the target. This serum did not act immediately; throughout the rest of the event and the most of the evening afterwards, the target would seem normal. But, after 6 hours, the target would die, and the only cause of death anyone could find would be the signs of cardiac arrest.

They’d tried it a few times before; successfully taking out a congressmen, a mayor, and a school board director. No plan they’d ever tried before worked as smoothly, and best of all, they had not been suspected at all.

Bucky stripped off his jacket, throwing it over one of the chairs. He set to work then, moving the garbage scattered throughout the bakery into the large trash bin in the middle of the room. Clint, after wolfing down some fries, got back to painting, and it took less than an hour to have the garbage cleaned up and the rest of the paint applied. Just as they were finishing up, Natasha showed up, on the phone, speaking nearly 100 miles per hour.

“I need all this by Monday… Yes, I know what day it is! My employer will pay you extra for your trouble,” she said, just a small amount of spite in her voice as she said in that last bit. “No thank you,” she said, definitely more sarcastically, before she hung up, sighing heavily and pushing her short, red curls from her face. Clint smiled a little, gave his girlfriend a kiss as he reached her.

“You look a bit stressed,” he commented, taking the stack of papers from her hand and rubbing her shoulder. Nat looked at him gratefully, a small smile playing at her lips in spite of the exhaustion that was etched all over her face.

“The people from the wholesale place seemed to think that adding some more powdered sugar to our order made delivery by Monday a no-go,” she sighed, rolling her eyes at the ridiculousness of it all. Clint nodded sympathetically, although he really didn’t understand the frustration as he has been lucky enough to work by himself through all this.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he assured her, kissing her forehead as she leaned into him. “We’ll get our delivery in time, and everything will work out.” Natasha smiled softly at that, looking at Clint and giving him another gentle kiss. “What do you think? We just finished painting,” he told her after they broke their kiss, referring to the walls.

“Oh, wow,” Nat said, looking surprised. “This place looks totally different.. and this is exactly the kind of paint I had in mind!” Her face lit up, phone conversation completely forgotten.

“I’ll alert the presses, Clint finally listened to something you said,” Bucky teased from the other side of the counter. Nat let out a short laugh, and Clint turned to glare at Bucky.

“Hey, I listen when she talks. It’s just the.. you know.. Remembering part…that I have an issue with,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, flustered. Nat smiled and kissed his cheek, causing his already reddish cheeks to burn even deeper.

“You do alright. Not great, but alright,” she said, although everyone in the room knew that Clint did a great job- most of the time.

“So, back to business,” Bucky prompted, clearing his throat a bit awkwardly; though Clint and Nat were two of his best friends, he still felt a bit misplaced when they were acting so.. couple-y.

“Yes, business,” Nat said, pulling away from her boyfriend, much to his dismay. “The cleaning team is coming tomorrow, bright and early. Saturday, the majority of our furniture is going to get here, and that gives us Sunday to arrange it how we want it and get the last few pieces. Wholesale should be here by Monday, and that will give us plenty of time to experiment and let the place breathe a little before our opening on Friday.” Silence extended between the three. Natasha blinked at Clint and Bucky, who wore similar masks of surprise and impressed.

“When you put it like that, it seems like there isn’t a lot left to do,” Bucky said, which launched Nat into another long-winded tangent.

“But there is!” she exclaimed. “We have to get the business cards ready, the menu figured out, we still haven’t decided if we want to do coffee and drinks yet. Oh, and don’t get me started on the uniforms-“

“Woah, uniforms?” Clint interrupted, looking scandalized. “I’m not wearing a damn baker’s hat, so if that’s what you have in mind-“

“It’s not,” Natasha snapped lightly over Clint. “No bakers hat, but this is a business and you will have to wear some sort of uniform,” She said, leaving no room for argument in her statement. Clint opened his mouth again, probably to argue, but Bucky cut in before he could.

“How about this,” he said, raising his hands to calm the couple. “We do have uniforms, but the uniforms are t-shirts with the name of the bakery on the front, and hours, phone number, and specialties listed on the back.” Another silence followed his words as the other two considered it.

“Actually, that doesn’t sound bad,” Clint said in a surprisingly resigned tone. “They’ve gotta be different colors, though. I don’t want to wear the same color every day.” On that note, Natasha rolled her eyes, clicking her tongue fondly.

“Such a diva, Barton,” she said, ruffling his hair and smiling. “But, I do like that idea. We’ll get blue, green, orange, and pink shirts. But-“ she spoke over whatever comment Clint was going to make, “We’ve gotta get the name on aprons, too.”

“That seems fair enough,” Bucky said after a short consideration. “Do we even have a name yet?”

“Shit,” Clint said after a stunned silence. “We don’t have a damn name.”

“We don’t have a name!” Natasha said, panic evident in her voice as she looked frantically between Clint and Bucky. “We don’t have a name! How can we be a bakery if we don’t have a name!? Shit, shit, shit,” she muttered, taking her papers from Clint before dropping her papers on the counter and leaning forward on her forearms.

“I can’t believe we forgot a name,” Bucky said, leaning back against the counter and looking down at Natasha before looking at Clint. He was absolutely stumped.

“Sweet Spot,” Clint said after a silence that seemed to span over an eternity, but was really only a few minutes. “Sweet Spot Bakery,” he said again, as if testing it out on his tongue.

“Sweet Spot..” Bucky murmured, furrowing his brow as if trying to find some problem with it. There was no bakery around with a name like that.. It was different, unique, and just suggestive enough to get smiles from passersby. “I think that’s a really good name.”

“Sweet Spot,” Natasha said as it was her turn to try out the name. “That’s actually kind of ingenious.. It’s kind of funny.. a little bit suggestive.. but it gets the point across. And besides-“

“No one would expect bakers to be both assassins AND dirty minded,” Clint finished for her, causing them all to share a small giggle.

“Alright, Sweet Spot it is,” Natasha said, scribbling it down on one of her papers. “I’ll get business card and t-shirt orders in today.. talk to a sign guy tomorrow.. We’re gonna be in business soon, guys.”

 

And they were. The next week flew by, but the trio was so busy that they hadn’t realized. Cleaning, rearranging once, twice, three times, and more cleaning was essentially all the three did. Oh, and the baking experiments were not as much of a disaster as originally thought. As it turned out, Natasha was superb at making regular bread, fruit breads and muffins; Clint found his calling with cakes and cupcakes and was excellent at applying icing; Bucky, on the other hand, had quite the knack for making scones, fruit-filled pastries, and fudge brownies. All three of them were equally matched with baking cookies, so the workload didn’t appear to be anything but evenly divided.

In the oddest turn yet, the three actually enjoyed what they were doing. Clint’s fascination with different kinds of icing as well as the different ways in which they could be applied had him googling techniques and ideas well into the night. Nat, who had always found warm, buttery breads to be a great comfort, hoped that the breads she made would in turn give comfort to someone else in need. Bucky’s mother had made the most delicious scones, and lemon scones seemed to be her specialty. Although Bucky got the recipe from his sister, and he successfully made batch after batch of these sweet treats, he could never get them to be as good as his Ma’s. But, he could still try, and making the scones comforted him deeply; he’d watched his mother make them so many times as a child, and for some reason, he felt closer to her for that reason and that reason alone.

Coffee as well as regular, green, chamomile, chai, and ginger teas were added to the menu after the trio decided they should wait until they were more established to try with specialty drinks; and even then, perhaps only make them seasonally.

The opening of the bakery was a bigger success than any of them had expected. From noon to roughly 6:40, there were no less than ten customers in the bakery, either in line, enjoying the sweets, or talking with friends in the comfortable chairs by the window. They made more money than they thought possible for one day, and so many business cards were taken that Natasha had to call to order more. Clint’s eyes shone with pride at every cupcake that was sold, and he could just barely contain his excitement when a middle-aged woman complimented him on the icing artistry. Bucky’s lemon scones were the next best seller behind Clint’s cupcakes, and when Rebecca, his sister, stopped in and tried one, she told him about how proud their mother would be. Bucky was thankful that Nat had pretended not to see the tears in his eyes at those words.

If the opening on Friday was any indication for how the rest of the weekend would go, it would only indicate that the best was yet to come. Saturday saw nearly double the amount of business from the first day, while Sunday was very busy around mid-day, when most folks were headed home from church. Though they were exhausted, the trio was happy. Natasha could hardly contain her pride when she took inventory after each day and saw all that they needed to make for the next day. Clint kept making changes to his icing inventions, and Bucky was always happy to sample them. Bucky, who contrary to popular belief, adored people, loved the freedom to speak to many of the customers that walked through their door.

Sunday night, as Clint flipped the “open” sign to “closed”, and Bucky wiped down the last table, Natasha came rushing out of the back.

“Guys! I just got off the phone with the newspaper. You’ll never believe this- They’re sending one of their writers down here tomorrow to get a story on the bakery!”


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually pretty proud of how this one turned out! Give a look see if you want. 
> 
> **remember, Stucky and Clintasha are the main ships; don't read if you don't like/ship.

Monday morning was sunny, nice and warm in the low 60s. Sam Wilson, food and culture reporter for the paper, donned his sunglasses as he began the short walk to the bakery, where he was to meet a woman named Natasha to discuss the bakery’s opening weekend success. While reviewing the questions he’d jotted down on his notepad, Sam didn’t hear approaching footsteps.

                “Hey! Hey, hey, on your left!”

                Less than a second later, Steve Rogers appeared at Sam’s left elbow, eyes shining and smiling broadly. Sam was awoken from his reverie, blinking at Steve in mild surprise.

                “What are you doing, man?” Sam asked, unable to contain his smile at his friend’s glowing excitement.

                “I’m coming with you!” Steve said, patting Sam’s shoulder. “Gotta see what the buzz is about, don’t I?” Sam looked skeptical.

                “What’s in it for you? I heard that Natasha girl is taken,” Sam said, wiggling his eyebrows a bit, causing Steve to laugh.

                “Nah, that’s definitely not why I’m going,” Steve said, making a face and wrinkling his nose lightly. Of course Steve felt attracted to women; he thought they were beautiful, and he’d kissed a few in his time, but when it came to romance… Steve preferred to remain on the same side of the fence. Sam knew this of course, but he couldn’t surpass an opportunity to good-naturedly tease his pal.

                “I’m joking man, no big deal,” Sam smiled, and once Steve returned it, he continued. “I did hear this place is pretty sweet…literally. They had a lot of business this weekend. Like, a lot.”

                “Yeah, Peg stopped by yesterday and texted me saying how good it was,” Steve reported. “Of course, Peggy loves everything sugary, so I’m not sure how objective her experience was,” Steve laughed a bit as the bakery came into view at the end of the block.

                “Peggy is a sweet thing,” Sam said offhandedly, earning himself a slug in the arm from Steve.

                “Watch it,” he warned.

                “I’m just kidding, man!” Sam said, rubbing the part of his arm Steve had punched. “I know she’s your girl. Hell, she’s mine too. Peg’s one of a kind.”

                Of course she was. Steve and Peggy met in kindergarten and their friendship flourished from there. She’d stuck with Steve all through high school, when his mom passed away, and when he realized he was bisexual- that one had been hard. He had the hardest time coming to terms with his new discovery; he felt like he betrayed the values he grew up with. But Peggy was a savior in that situation, teaching Steve that there was absolutely nothing wrong with Steve’s orientation, and that she herself was questioning the very same thing.

                When Steve came back from his first semester at college, he had a bunch of stories to share with Peggy, many of them including a character named Sam. Then, over spring break, Sam and Peggy finally got to meet. Steve found himself extremely nervous as two of the most important people in his life were preparing to meet. His worry was for nothing, though, because Sam and Peggy got on better than he could have hoped. Peggy became a pro at blocking Sam’s flirty nature, and Sam loved how Peggy often called him out for his shit (although he’d never admit that).

                “But really,” Sam pressed, “why are you tagging along?” Steve shrugged.

                “I don’t know man,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Wanted to get out of the office for a while.. Having trouble thinking of new comics,” he admitted to his friend. While Sam wrote his articles, Steve drew many of the comics featured in the paper.

                “Well, you’ve got that thing at the Arts Center coming up, don’t you?” Sam said, looking at his friend, lightly concerned. “You could always find inspiration there.”

                “Yeah, that’s not until a week from Wednesday, though. I was gonna go the park, but then I saw you leave, so I decided to follow you,” he shrugged. “People-watching helps.”

                Sam smiled, holding the door to the bakery open for Steve.

                “We’ll get you some ideas, pal.”

 

 

 

                Natasha had been flitting around all morning, shining things to ridiculous proportions, straightening the picture frames on the walls, and primping the boys to no extent.

                “If you keep sticking your hands in my hair,-“ Clint said, squeezing his eyes shut and scrunching his nose as Natasha began smoothing it down again, “I’m not gonna get anything done.”

                “Clint, we’re not just being interviewed on our baked goods, but on our appearance and our personalities,” she finished smoothing his hair. “Your personality is a lost cause, but I can work on your appearance.”

                “First of all, how dare you,” Clint said, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend’s waist and pulling her closer. “And secondly, I think I’ll need a kiss to recover from such a harsh critique.”

                Nat smiled, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Clint’s mouth.           

                “Oh my God,” Bucky, who had just entered the kitchen, complained, shielding his eyes. “I’ve caught you two sucking face more times in the past three days than I ever have! This place has turned you two into rabbits.”

                Clint laughed loudly, pulling Natasha, who was blushing, closer.

                “I think someone’s just jealous,” Clint taunted.

                “Jealous?” Bucky scoffed as Natasha checked her watch, squealing and pulling from Clint.

                “He’s gonna be here any minute!” She rushed outside, through the kitchen door Bucky had just entered, to meet the reporter.

                “You’re totally jealous, dude. You need someone in your life,” Clint said, now thoroughly in sensitive-friend mode. Bucky just scoffed again, shaking his head and picking up the pan of lemon scones that had just finished cooling. He toed the kitchen door open and started out, turning his head back to speak to Clint who was following him.

                “I’m totally fine with being single, man, I don’t have time fo-“ Bucky didn’t finish his sentence, and Clint ran into Bucky’s form, which had stopped in its tracks right outside the door.

                The world stopped turning. Bucky’s legs felt like jelly, and his mind was too cloudy to even wonder if the way his mouth fell unhinged would be considered rude. The guy standing at the counter had to have been some sort of angel. He had golden blonde hair, kept much shorter than Bucky’s, and a bit untidy. This man had the bluest eyes Bucky had ever seen, and oh God, his eyelashes were so full and long that they cast beautiful shadows on his beautiful cheekbones. And those lips.. perfect, plump, and pink; Bucky never wanted to kiss someone so badly before.

                Blood rushed to Bucky’s cheeks, and into his ears. It felt like he was in a fish tank; seeing things before him, but not clearly hearing everything unfolding in front of him. The golden boy was looking at someone—Oh, Nat. Of course she was there. But Nat wasn’t talking to him—oh. The man standing next to the golden boy must be the reporter, his notepad was a dead giveaway. Bucky didn’t pay either of them any attention, and he turned back to look at the angel. But there was something different now; an annoying buzzing was reaching his ears. Suddenly, Bucky felt something on his arm. Turning slowly, he swallowed hard, shutting his mouth, and saw the hand belonged to Clint.

                “Hey,” Clint said, and Bucky made some sort of indication that he’d heard him—a hybrid between a grunt and a “yeah?”. Clint’s eyes shone with amusement, and he looked between the golden boy and Bucky a few times; mischief in his eyes. Luckily, before he could wreak too much havoc, the timer for his cupcakes went off, and he disappeared into the back.

                Bucky cleared his throat, regaining his bearings again, and carrying the scones to put out in their respective spots behind the glass.

                “Hey, what are those?” Once of the voices on the other side of the counter said. From listening for a minute, he knew it wasn’t the reporter nor Natasha speaking to him, and he nearly dropped the pan. Bucky looked up, meeting the golden boy’s eyes and he swore that his heart fell into his stomach; from this close, the man’s eyes were so blue…and so questioning…why was he looking at him like that? Oh, shit, he asked him a question.

                “Lemon scones,” Bucky said in a voice that was incredibly strong for how weak he felt inside. After speaking, he felt his confidence swell, and he lifted one onto a plate with tongs. “I’ll give you a freebie if you tell me your name,” he drawled, raising an eyebrow. The golden boy laughed.

                “I’m Steve,” he said. “And those are my favorite,” he held out a hand. “Please?” he asked then, in a voice that Bucky would argue was far too innocent for someone with a voice that deep. Bucky smiled and handed the plate over. “Bucky…” Steve said, squinting a bit to read the nametag on his shirt.

                “That’s my name,” Bucky said, leaning against the counter, closer to Steve. “You can say it as much as you’d like,” he winked. Steve, again, just laughed and shook his head. He took a bite into the scone, and his eyes widened the tiniest bit in surprise.

                “Oh my God, these are fantastic,” he said, looking at Bucky, who would be lying if he said he didn’t want to kiss the powdered sugar from Steve’s lips.

                “You like those?” Bucky asked, handing over a napkin and smiling as Steve wiped his mouth, cheeks flushed for the first time.

                “Yeah, they’re so sweet,” Steve said, eyes so honest that it made Bucky feel so, _so_ gooey inside.

                “Bet they’re not as sweet as you,” Bucky said, immediately hearing the reporter snort audibly from beside Steve. Bucky turned, raising his eyebrows at the man, who was trying to hide his smirk behind the notepad. Meanwhile, Steve had turned scarlet, and Nat glared at Bucky for causing the interruption.

                “Why don’t we sit down, Sam?” Nat said, gesturing towards the seats by the window. As the man named Sam turned away with a cup of coffee, Nat gave Bucky a sharp kick in the shin from behind the counter, causing him to double over slightly in pain, before she followed Sam to sit down.

                Then, awkward silence ensued. Steve, having realized Bucky was flirting with him, busied himself with shoving as much scone as he could into his mouth. Bucky, reeling from Natasha’s sharp kick and from the look on Steve’s face, kept his gaze directed downward a bit.

                “The icing on those cupcakes is fantastic,” Steve said conversationally. There was a loud crash from the kitchen, the door was flung open, and Clint, wearing apron and all, was at Bucky’s side in a second.

                “You like the icing!?” He said; clearly, he had been listening while making more icing, as powder was scattered over his face. Steve was surprised- he’d barely mentioned the icing and suddenly, this powdered covered man appeared with a crazed look in his eye.

                “Yeah,” Steve said, politely, and smiling. “It looks like you put a lot of work into these. You obviously like what you’re doing.”

                Bucky thought Clint was going to explode from pride and excitement. Literally, he was trembling.

                “Steve,” Bucky said, “this is Clint. He really, _really_ likes icing.”

                “Hi, I’m Clint!” Clint said, still so excited about the icing compliment he’d received, but then, he launched into a thesis statement on his peanut butter icing. Bucky had heard it before, so he didn’t really listen. Instead, he looked at Steve, and felt his heart swell as the golden boy was genuinely interested in what Clint was saying.

                “Here,” Bucky said after a moment, and picked a cupcake with that icing out for Steve to try. He paused before handing it to him, though. “This one is gonna cost you your phone number though,” he said, smirking lightly as Steve’s face got even more red.

                “That seems like a pretty steep price,” Steve said, voice surprisingly steady even to his ears. “Don’t think I could spend that without getting yours in return.” He took his eyes off Bucky then, causing the brunet’s knees to go weak yet again, because those oceans of baby blue would be the death of him.

                “You drive a hard bargain, punk,” Bucky said playfully, passing the cupcake to Steve before scrawling his phone number on a napkin with a pen from the register.

                “No need to be a jerk,” Steve shot right back, writing his number on a napkin with a borrowed pen, too. They exchanged the napkins, and Steve licked a mouthful of the icing from the cupcake. Clint, who was oblivious to the exchange that just occurred, watched Steve closely, biting his lip. “Woah,” Steve said, smiling at Clint. “This icing is insane. It tastes so great.”

                Clint could have melted right into the floor. Every time someone complimented his work, his cupcakes, his beautiful artwork, his heart grew so light that it could soar. Never before had he thought he could be a baker, or even be able to ice a cake properly. But now, it was totally different. He found his niche, and it was just as good as arching.

                “Thanks man,” Clint said appreciatively, smiling at Steve before looking at his watch. “It was great talking to you Steve, but I gotta get back to work.”

                “Yeah, I’ll see you around,” Steve said, nodding and smiling as Clint receded back into the kitchen. “He really loves what he does,” he said as soon as the door had shut.

                “Yeah,” Bucky said, nodding and looking back at the door his friend just disappeared behind. “Clint is good at a lot of things, but there are a few things he’s great at, and he totally throws his whole heart into it,” he finished, unable to contain his own smile when he saw Steve’s.

                “That’s really great to hear,” he said honestly. “I had some friends come down here over the weekend, and they all had nice things to say about everything, especially the cupcakes.”

                “Oh, really?” Bucky said, a little surprised. “Well, maybe we should make a Facebook page. Feedback like that would do us all some good.”

                Steve opened his mouth to respond, but Sam came up behind him and clapped him on the back.

                “Ready to get back, man?” He asked, and Steve nodded, shoving the napkin Bucky had written his number on into his jacket pocket.

                “It was nice to meet you Bucky,” Steve said, nodding courteously before adding in a voice far too suggestive to come from him, “I’ll be waiting to hear from you.” Bucky was dumbfounded.

                “Bye,” was his genius response, waving to Steve as he smirked and left with his friend. He was still staring out the door when Natasha spoke.

                “Should I let you continue to drool or do you have some dignity you’d like to save?” She said, quirking an eyebrow and smirking when Bucky snapped his lips shut as his jaw had become unhinged yet again.

                “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said quickly.

                “Sure you don’t,” she rolled her eyes, leaning on the counter and looking at Bucky with knowing eyes.

                “How’d your interview go?” Bucky asked her, rubbing his flushed face.

                “I think it went really well,” she said, nodding in approval. “Sam was a great guy, and he seemed to be genuinely interested in the good reception we’d gotten on our opening weekend.”

                “Good,” Bucky said, smiling genuinely. “I think we’re doing a good job here.”

 

The next day, Bucky came into the bakery to find Clint and Natasha fawning over the newspaper.

                “Good review?” Bucky said, coming to join them at the counter and peering over Clint’s shoulder to read the article:

**Softie for Sweet Spot**

**Sam Wilson**

_Bakeries in the city are common; there’s nearly one on every block. But not all of them are special, and unfortunately, not all of them have the certain friendly atmosphere found in Sweet Spot, which just opened this Friday on 82 nd and Colonial. With a wide variety of sweet desserts and warm drinks, this quaint shop is attractive in more ways than one. _

_“We really wanted to open up a family place. You know, somewhere mom and dad could bring the kids for some cupcakes. That’s been our main goal since the start and it’s very important to all of us to uphold that standard,” Said Natasha Rushman, co-owner of the new bakery._

_Rushman owns Sweet Spot with her partner Clint Barton, and their good friend James “Bucky” Barnes. While visiting, I was met with the friendliest of staffs and the cleanest of eateries. Barton holds a particular passion for his icing artistry and Barnes, a superb scone architect, treats every customer with individual care and a sincere smile._

_Sweet Spot is open Monday through Saturday from 8:30 to 6, and Sunday from 10 to 5. (Please see Comics, page B8)._

“Wow, we killed it!” Clint said excitedly, cheeks lightly red with the praise he had received in the article.

“Wait, what’s on B8?” Nat said, furiously flipping the paper back to the comics section.

Before them was an illustration of three people: A girl with short curly hair and a friendly close-lipped smile, a man was standing next to this girl, and he was holding a cupcake proudly, and finally, a buff man with longer, dark hair was smiling broadly.  At the bottom was the signature of Steve Rogers beside bubble letters which read “Sweet Spot”.

Bucky smiled; they all did. A ringing from Bucky’s pocket caught his attention, and pulling out his phone, he saw that he had one unread text.

_So, should I call you Bucky or James? ;)_

               

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small announcement here: I know that Nat's last name isn't really Rushman; it will be explained later why she uses that last name. (there IS a method behind that ;))
> 
> As always, a world of thanks to my wonderful Cecie. None of this would be possible without her, http://glittrbuck.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> What did you guys think of Chapter 2? Let me know! Feedback and constructive criticism are always welcome. Check out my tumblr: http://but-im-danger.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally getting into the plot a bit here. enjoy!

The same day the article praising the bakery was published, two important event occurred. Firstly, Natasha received a call around midday from an events planner. There would be an event for the paper’s anniversary that Friday, and after having read the article (and many employees having actually tried the sweets produced by the bakery), they had decided to hire Sweet Spot to cater the desserts. The trio were asked for roughly 500 cupcakes of different flavors and icing, (Clint nearly hit the roof in excitement), and the same amount of assorted cookies.

“This has got to be a good sign, right?” Bucky said after Natasha informed him about the phone call she had received. It was just the two of them in the office now; as soon as Clint had heard what was expected in the cupcake department, he rushed off to do some more experimenting.

“Yeah, this is a really good sign,” Nat confirmed, nodding. “For one, the community is accepting us and enjoying our product, and it also means no one suspects what we’re really doing.”

_Oh._ Bucky had totally forgotten what they were really there to do. After all the excitement from opening weekend and meeting Steve (whom he had been texting since that morning), the whole assassin thing slipped his mind.

“Oh, right,” Bucky said, nodding and smiling sheepishly. “Honestly, it slipped my mind what we’re really supposed to be doing.”

Natasha smiled sympathetically, nodding at him.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. We’re actually loving doing this, and we’re making a lot of people happy. But I have to say,” she shook her head, smiling her close-lipped smile and looking down to her feet, “even with using my phony last name, I feel more exposed than ever.”

“Hey,” Bucky said, hand on her shoulder, “You’re doing a really good job. I know how hard this is for you. But I don’t think I’ve ever seen you happier.”

Nat looked at him, smiling genuinely this time. They knew it’d be hard to be in public with no aliases, no protection, and they all knew how hard it would be for Natasha especially. All her life, she’d lived under an assumed name. Fury had expected them to take their given names when working at this bakery (it seemed more genuine that way), but Nat couldn’t do it. She would not use her last name, she would not take Clint’s. After a lot of moping and feet-dragging, Fury allowed Natasha to use an alias.

In true Natasha fashion, she toughed through all of this. The move, the new business, and the new exposure was overwhelming. Bucky and Clint felt it, too. But without Nat, none of this would have been possible. Neither Bucky nor Clint had any idea of how to run a business from the actual business end. Neither Bucky nor Clint could keep the group from falling apart, either. Nat was an absolutely vital part to the boys’ life as well as the operation Fury had assigned them.

“You’re a really good friend,” Nat said, her voice soft, truly touched by her friend’s kind words.

“Nat, we couldn’t do this without you,” Bucky said, squeezing her shoulder gently and smiling before removing his hand. “Clint and I are both helpless.”

“Not totally helpless, but you’re not far from it,” Nat said, smirking as the tender moment between friends had come to a close. Snorting, Bucky rolled his eyes and dramatically went out front, door hitting him on the backside as he stopped once he saw who was standing at the counter.

Tall, pale skinned, and fierce, Maria Hill brought an air of confidence and badassery into any room she stepped into. She didn’t even look like a SHIELD Agent—in fact, she looked like any twenty-something out for something sweet. Maria wore her hair down, which was very out of the ordinary, a tie-dyed shirt and leggings, topped off with flip flops. She smiled when she saw Bucky.

“Hi,” she said in her best civilian’s voice, which was pretty persuasive. “My car broke down, can I use your phone?”

That was their code. Simple enough, even for 2016.

“Absolutely,” Bucky said, motioning for her to come behind the counter before the two of them walked through the door towards the back. To any customers in the store, this would have been a totally normal exchange.

“Business is booming, eh, Barnes?” she said once behind the door and safely out of earshot. She totally dropped the civilian voice, her posture straightened, and her gaze swept over the kitchen in a way that only a SHIELD Agent’s could.

“Yeah, we’re doing well,” Bucky said, before he was cut off by Clint.

“Hey, Maria! Check this out, I make strawberry icing, try it,” he said, shoving a bowl in front of Maria, who looked affronted.

“I’m sorry, what kind of-“ She began, eyes very confused and looking at Bucky for support.

“Clint really likes icing,” Bucky explained, taking the bowl from Clint. “Go get Nat, this probably is a team meeting,” he told Clint, who hurried off to find the redhead.

“I’ve never seen Barton so happy,” Maria said, staring off after where he’d just disappeared.

“He’s really found a niche in cupcakes,” Bucky said, smiling and sticking a finger in the icing before licking it off. “And for good reason too, he’s damn good.”

Maria dipped her finger in the icing, too, and hummed in approval when the sweet, strawberry taste hit her taste buds. Natasha came into the kitchen then, followed by Clint.

“This is really good icing, Barton,” Maria said, nodding to the archer. “You’ve got some talent.” Clint absolutely beamed.

“I think we’ll keep him around,” Nat said affectionately, before her tone changed to a more business-like one. “What brings you here?”

“We have an assignment for you,” Maria said, reaching into her bag and pulling out a vanilla folder. “The _Brooklyn Report_ is having an event celebrating its anniversary on Friday,” she explained, handing the folder to Natasha.

“Yeah, we got the call to cater just an hour ago,” Clint said, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms, listening intently.

“Did you accept the offer?” Maria asked, raised brow.

“Yeah, of course,” Nat nodded.

“Oh, that makes it much easier,” Maria said, visibly relaxing a little bit. “There’s a target who will be attending this event. We need to take him out. His name is Police Lieutenant Matt Dox. He’s dirty, in with organized crime, child trafficking and the like. We need to take him out.”

Natasha looked over the file Maria handed to her, nodding as she spoke. Clint was examining his fingernails, taking in the information and Bucky was already planning out how to get the poison to this target.

“And you’re sure he’ll be there?” Nat said, looking at Maria, who nodded once.

“He RSVP’d and was of vital importance to the _Reporter_ at the beginning. If not, his home address is listed, and so his schedule,” Maria flipped through the folder Nat was holding, and she pointed to the information she had just mentioned.

“You got it,” Clint said, nodding as he looked over Nat’s shoulder at the information. “We’ll have confirmed death by 3am Saturday morning.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Maria said, backing towards the door. “Be careful,” she said before opening the kitchen door and using her civilian voice again, “My brother is gonna come get me, thank you so much!” She rolled her eyes playfully, hating this trope, and left.

The mission was the second important event that took place for the team that day. While Clint and Natasha discussed logistics, Bucky went back out front to maintain the business, but the day’s events weren’t done for him. He was met by a pair of eager baby blue eyes and a plump, red-lipped smile.

“Hi,” Steve said, smile growing even brighter. Bucky stutter stepped, yet again, dammit, but walked up to the counter and smiled, leaning against it.

“Well, there’s a little ray of sunshine for my day,” he drawled, not hiding how he was looking Steve up and down. Steve blushed, shifted in his stance before smiling, a little nervous edge this time.

“Did you see the comic?” Steve asked, and Bucky swore he heard a small quiver in his voice.

“Yeah, I did,” Bucky said, smiling. “You’ve got some talent, Steve.”

If possible, Steve’s cheeks turned even redder and he handed Bucky something small, in a frame.

“This is the original sketch.. I thought you guys would like to have it… hang it behind the counter or in the seating area, whatever,” Steve said, definitely nervous. Bucky was so touched; he held the frame, looking at the drawing Steve did. He could identify every pencil mark Steve had made, every place he had erased, and every mark he made that didn’t show up in the paper.

“Wow, thank you,” Bucky said in an equally astounded and grateful voice. “This was so thoughtful of you, Steve.”

“Sam and I really enjoyed meeting you guys yesterday,” Steve explained, cheeks reddening even more as Bucky leaned the comic in its frame right by the small wipe board which listed the day’s specials.

“We really liked meeting you guys too,” Bucky said, smiling. “Sam seems cool, hopefully I can properly meet him at some point.” Steve’s face lit up at that.

“I heard you guys are catering the anniversary event on Friday,” he said, and smiled broadly. “Sam will be there. And so will I-“ he added as an afterthought. Bucky smiled at how cute Steve was.

“Well, I’ll be looking forward to that,” He said, winking. “What are you doing on Saturday?” Bucky continued, before he realized what he said. Steve’s ears were turning pink now, and he looked down at his nervous, fumbling hands.

“I’ve got no plans Saturday,” Steve mumbled quietly, so bashful and beautiful that it made Bucky want to either shout or squeeze the adorable out of Steve.

“Well, how about you and I do something?” Bucky suggested with a smile, eyes shining as he looked at Steve positively glow at the prospect of it.

“Really?” the blond asked, looking up at Bucky with the most adorable grin on his face.

“Really,” Bucky confirmed, smiling at Steve, who was damn near quivering in his happiness now.

“I’d love to,” he said, running a hand through his short blond locks. “What should we do?”

“Well,” Bucky said, smiling and leaning closer to Steve, “I was thinking we could get some dinner and ice cream? We could let the rest of the night go from there.”

Steve was soaring. He couldn’t believe this man—this perfect, handsome, good hearted man—could be interested in him.

“That sounds like a lot of fun, Buck,” he said honestly, smiling widely from ear to ear.

Steve stayed and chatted with Bucky for a few minutes, before buying a lemon scone and a cherry-filled pastry for Peggy and bidding farewell to his date. Once outside in the open air, he allowed himself a shaky laugh and a fist-bump to the air. He had a date with the most handsome man he’d ever seen. He- Steve Rogers, the art geek- was going out with a chiseled man with stubble and eyes that made Steve weak at his knees.

He sent Peggy a quick text: _Coming over, be there in 5. I have sweets_

Five minutes later, as promised, Steve was standing at Peggy and her roommate Angie’s front door. Before he could even knock, Peggy swung the door open, hand on her hip, looking at him suspiciously.

“Steven Grant Rogers, you give me a five minute warning that you’re going to be showing up at my apartment? What if I had been entertaining someone!?” She scolded him in a nearly uncharacteristic way. Now that Steve looked, Peggy’s hair was a little bit messy, and the shirt she was wearing was a little wrinkled. Before Steve opened his mouth to respond, Angie slipped past them both.

“I’ll be back later, English,” she said, not looking away from her feet. “Hi Steve, bye Steve,” she said, rushing down the hall. She was wearing her waitress uniform, but Steve noticed something on her collar as she passed.

“Was that—Does Ang have lipstick on her collar?” He managed to ask before Peggy pulled on his arm and yanked him inside. She ran a hand through her hair, smoothing it down, before smoothing down her shirt as well.

“Never mind that,” Peggy said dismissively, holding her hand out for the pastry Steve offered her.

“Peg…are you…are you messing around with Angie?” He asked, amused, but not that surprised. Those two had heart eyes for one another ever since Peggy became a regular at the Retro diner where Angie worked. Peggy snorted through a mouthful of Pastry, but said nothing else. She was blushing, and not meeting Steve’s gaze. “Peg,” Steve said, sitting down by his friend and putting his hand on her arm.

Finally, Peggy’s gaze met his and she visibly relaxed, sighing out.

“Steve, I’ve got it bad,” she confided in him. “I don’t know when it started, and I assure you that’s not _why_ I wanted to room with her. She’s a good friend, she has a steady job, and…. Oh, Steve, she’s so lovely.” Peggy put the pastry on her lap, head falling into her hands. “She makes me so happy, Steve. We had some wine last night, and we.. “ She sighed and looked at Steve. “We didn’t go all the way.. but we did..”

Steve smiled and pulled his friend into a hug.

“It’s okay, Peg,” he said, rubbing her back. “If how she looks at you is any indication, she really has feelings for you too,” he assured her. Peggy squirmed in his arms, wrapping hers around his neck and finding solace in hiding her face in his shoulder.

“What if she doesn’t?!” She said, voice muffled by his shirt.

“Then she’s missing a pretty spectacular girl, isn’t she?” Steve answered, rubbing her back. “But, I promise you that isn’t the case,” he felt her relax against him again before beginning to compose herself. After a few minutes, she pecked Steve on the cheek, a sign that she was alright and was ready to move on, and sat up straight, taking a breath and rubbing her eyes.

“So,” she said, voice strong and back to normal, “to what do I owe the pleasure of your company and this delicious treat?” she asked, taking another bite of the pastry. Steve smiled.

“I have a date,” he said, and Peggy’s eyes widened with surprise and excitement.

“With the beefy guy from the bakery?!” She asked, grinning as if she already knew.

“Yeah! He asked me out, Peg. I’m so excited. We’re going to dinner and ice cream on Saturday,” he said, smile growing on his face along with the blush.

“Well, what are you going to wear?” she asked, finishing her pastry off just as Steve was digging into his. He ripped a piece of his scone off of the main chunk and handed it to Peggy to try.

“I was thinking a button down and some khakis?” he answered, question in his tone as he wasn’t sure if that would be an appropriate outfit.

Peggy chewed and swallowed the scone Steve had shared with her, thinking.

“You should wear that purple and green checkered one that my mother sent you for your birthday,” she responded after a minute. “And those nice tan khakis that you wear on special occasions. And for goodness’ sake, Steven, do not wear sneakers. Wear the dockers you bought for Michaels’ wedding. Those will go on nicely.”

“I’d be so lost without you.”

 

After Steve had left, Bucky leaned against the counter, dazed at the lucky hand he’d been dealt. The smile on his face wasn’t fading anytime soon; nothing, not even the sight of dough stuck yet again in the rivets of his “special” hand could bring him down. Humming a tune he did not know, Bucky began to use a toothpick to clean out his hand.

It was a horrible accident, really, and if Bucky was being honest, he didn’t remember it too well. During one of his first missions as a SHIELD Agent, he’d been in an accident- the result of a high-speed chase, no less. Within the wreckage, Bucky’s left arm became mangled, and badly. He was unconscious for most of this, but Nat and Clint were then faced to make a choice: either let this man who knew nothing outside of being an Agent lose an arm, or allow for an extremely experimental procedure that, if successful, would leave Bucky scarred, but with a functional metal arm.

The choice was no contest. Seventeen hours later, Bucky woke up, seeing a new metal appendage on his body and feeling an unimaginable pain in his shoulder.

_“It’ll be okay,” Natasha said soothingly. “It’s gonna hurt for a while, but your body is going to accept this new part of you. It’s gonna be okay.”_

Bucky remembered thrashing wildly. He cried, he screamed, and he even tried to rip the arm off. But Natasha’s promise held true though, and his body did accept it.

But, it did hurt sometimes. On the cold mornings, Bucky had to wear a special sleeve that his sister had been so kind to knit him, because the pain and ache on those mornings was next to unbearable. And then there were the scars; the gnarled flesh around his metal shoulder was pink.. and he hated it. He hated looking at it, he hated wearing any shirt that showed the scars, and most of all, and he hated looking at himself shirtless for that reason.

When he thought of Steve though, none of that really mattered. Not that Steve had outright mentioned anything, nor had Bucky told him about his arm, but when he thought of the two of those things together, Steve and his arm, none of it really mattered. At least right now, he didn’t need to worry about being judged. Steve was the greatest guy Bucky had ever met.

And on Saturday, Bucky was going to be the luckiest man alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, big thanks to my wonderful Cec. She's truly a gift and I'd be lost in this without her. 
> 
> What did you think?


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky get a little bit closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken so long to post this. Finals/graduation coming up, so on top of that stuff i need to work on, I've been oddly drained this week. Definitely going to work on the next chapters this weekend, though. Thanks for hanging in.

Friday night came fast. Since the trio had received the call to cater, they had been in the kitchen at the shop from well before the shop opened to well into the night. Yes, they were tired, and yes, they were all probably a little overworked; but it was also true that they were happy—so incredibly happy, different from any kind of happiness any of them had ever felt before.

Clint found something he was good at and thoroughly enjoyed. He slept less than usual and spent his spare time in the small kitchen of his and Nat’s apartment. The confidence he got through his icing began showing itself in other places too—On Thursday morning, Nat woke up to some of the most delicious homemade banana pancakes she’d ever had; Clint even brought some for Bucky, who had been floored at the delicious taste. It was so nice for Bucky and Nat to see Clint so passionate about something. He always put great effort into everything he did, but to see his confidence grow from it and to see others enjoy what he was creating gave each of his friends a special feeling.

Bucky could finally be around people. As a SHIELD Agent before, being around members of the public was out of the question. But now, with this bakery and this new job, interacting with people was a part of the job description. Every person who walked into Sweet Spot would always receive a warm smile from Bucky and a genuine “have a good day” as they left. The women fawned all over him, and he knew this. Though he never led them on, he did enjoy the attention he got from them; superficial or not. And every time Bucky looked at his phone, it seemed, he’d be smiling—more often than not, a text from Steve was the culprit.

Natasha was the glue that held everything together. She answered the phone, took the orders, instructed the other two on what to do—and she was coming to terms with this new exposure. The first time she was walking down the street and a regular customer greeted her, she’d nearly shot him. It was absolutely alien to her that someone, a civilian, would recognize her by her face and greet her by her first name. Once the shock wore off, though, she felt a warm sensation deep inside. That customer had remembered her.. he had enjoyed his bakery experience so much that he said hello to her on the street. Then, she couldn’t stop smiling, and after that, the new exposure was a little bit easier.

It wasn’t _just_ a bakery to any of them.

“480, 500!” Clint said triumphantly, placing the final two cupcake boxes into the back of the rented van. “We’ve got all the boxes out here, Nat.” The redhead, who was flipping through her pad of notes, checked something off and nodded.

“Cookies and cupcakes are accounted for,” she said, nodding and smiling a little at Clint. Bucky joined them outside in front of the bakery after he had locked up.

“Are we ready to go?” he asked as he pulled a powder blue button-up shirt over him to match the other two’s. After Maria had left earlier that week, she’d ordered the trio matching shirts, a bit dressier than the everyday shirts.

“Fix your hair!” Nat squealed, pulling a comb from the depths of her handbag and raking it through Bucky’s hair before he even had a chance to defend himself.

“Nat, what—“ he said, but before he even realized what was going on, his hair was combed, and Nat was dropping the comb back into her bag.

“We have to look professional,” she said as Clint howled at the scandalized look on Bucky’s face.

“I feel a little violated,” he said, in a not completely joking tone, and Clint’s laughter grew louder.

“Hey, I’m doing you a favor,” Nat said, eyes glinting with mischief in a similar way to how Clint’s did. “I’ve got to make sure you look good for your boyfriend now, don’t I?”

Bucky felt his cheeks turn bright red at the mention of Steve, and Clint’s laughter died off a little bit.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Bucky tried.

“Not yet,” said Clint quickly, and he smiled. “But I don’t think it’d take you much to reel that one in,” he said, doing nothing to calm the redness in Bucky’s cheeks.

“Okay, enough teasing Barnes,” Nat said, businesslike tone now. She looked at her watch and shooed Clint into the back of the van to sit with the boxes. After shutting him in, she got into the passenger seat while Bucky drove the short block and a half to the conference center where the event would be held.

Bucky and Clint muscled the desserts in; luckily, dinner had just been had and everyone was listening to the speech The Editor was giving. The distraction gave them enough time to set out the desserts without being disturbed too often. Bucky surveyed the crowd as he worked; easily identifying the target.

Matt Dox looked like a slime ball. He had greasy black hair that hung long enough to be tucked behind his ears. As he was speaking to the man to his left, Bucky couldn’t help but feel anger swell in his chest at Dox’s smug face and yellow-toothed grin.

“At your two o’clock,” he murmured to Clint, who discreetly looked over and saw Dox, too.

“Can we give him a shower first?” He asked, wrinkling his nose. “I feel like I can smell him from here.”

“Let me deliver,” Nat said, eyes trained on Dox now. “He’s not going to suspect anything coming from me.”

Clint didn’t want to let her that close to such a dangerous man. Another perk of the bakery charade was that Clint no longer had to worry about Nat in the same way that he had when they were active agents. Sure, Nat was a big girl, and a badass; she could absolutely take care of herself. But, she was still Clint’s girl, and he didn’t want anything to happen to her.

“Give him hell,” Clint said after a moment, and The Editor’s speech ended in a round of applause. The lights turned on overhead just as Bucky stashed the final empty box underneath the desserts table. Quick as a fox, Nat had injected one of Clint’s cupcakes with the poison and carried it directly over to Dox. Her experience was evident from afar.

Dox’s eyes raked over her and he did not try to hide this, nor did he try to stop licking his lips while he did this. It made Clint’s skin crawl, and Bucky’s too—this guy was such a creep. She offered him the cupcake and.. yes! He’d taken it (after obscenely licking the icing off in a way that was meant to probably be seductive).

“My icing deserves better,” Clint spat viciously when he saw that, but, the job was done. They got their target early enough in the night that they did not have to worry about it any longer.

“Your icing deserves better,” Bucky responded with a snicker, but he straightened up quickly when a pretty young lady approached him. She had dark hair kept in shoulder-length waves, and beautiful dark eyes. Bucky was sure he’d recognized her from the bakery before, and he returned her friendly smile before she started to speak.

“So, I understand you’re going on a date with a friend of mine,” she said; Bucky wasn’t sure what shocked him more, this straightforward comment or her beautiful accent.

“I—uh, yeah,” Bucky said intelligently. “Steve?” The woman nodded and smiled, holding out her hand.

“I’m Peggy. I’ve known Steve since we were in kindergarten,” she explained as Bucky gave her hand a firm shake.

“Hi Peggy. I’m Bucky,” he responded, feeling more comfortable now. He had to admit, he liked how no-nonsense she seemed. Peggy reached for a cupcake and smiled.

“I’ve never seen such pretty icing on these, have you?” She asked before sinking her teeth into it. From the other end of the table, Clint’s head snapped in their direction.

“Icing?” He said, reaching Bucky’s side in a second. Peggy smiled kindly and shook his hand as well.

“You must be Clint, Steve’s told me about your passion for icing cupcakes.”

“You look familiar,” Clint said after releasing her hand. “How do I know you?”

“I’ve stopped in a few times,” Peggy told him. “I’m friends with Steve. My name is Peggy,” she introduced herself to him, too. “Now, tell me how you manage this,” she referred to the icing.

Bucky smiled but wandered away as Clint launched into another lecture on his icing technique. He saw a lot of people he recognized- there was the African American woman with beautiful waist-length dreadlocks, the Asian man who always wore sweaters with interesting patterns, and the tiny grandmotherly woman who flirted with Bucky like it was her last day every time she came in. He smiled as he saw their friendly faces. But then, he saw a face that made his heart skip a beat.

Steve was smiling broadly at him and walking his way. Almost nervously, Bucky’s hand flew to his hair and he smoothed it down, silently thanking Natasha for knowing what she was doing when she’d combed his hair earlier.

“Hi,” Steve said as he reached Bucky, who smiled at him, eyes shining.

“Well, look at you,” Bucky said, looking Steve, who was wearing a very nicely-tailored navy blue suit, up and down. Steve’s cheeks turned slightly pink under Bucky’s gaze but he drew himself up even taller.

“Had to dress nicely, you know? Spruce it up a bit,” he responded, smoothing his suit out a little bit. Bucky smiled and had to fight back the incredible urge to kiss the blond on the forehead.

“I’d say you knocked that one out of the park,” he said honestly. “You look great, Steve.”

“Oh,” Steve waved his hand dismissively, ordinary humble behavior back in full swing.

“No, really,” Bucky said, taking Steve’s hand in his and smiling. “You really look good,” he said, squeezing the blond’s hand gently. Steve’s cheeks turned even more pink and he looked and their intertwined hands before meeting Bucky’s gaze. It was only then that Bucky realized how close they were. Less than a foot away, no doubt. He could lean in and kiss him if he wanted to…and he did..

“Hey man, you’ve gotta try this!” said a voice from behind Steve, and a cupcake was thrust between them. Steve and Bucky released each other’s hands, blushing the brightest red. Steve accepted the cupcake from Sam, and introduced the two awkwardly.

“Good to meet you,” Bucky said as he and Sam shook hands. Sam had a somewhat smug look on his face, as if he knew exactly what he’d interrupted.

“Same, man. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he teased, not even trying to hide the wiggle in his brow as he looked at Steve, who busied himself with eating the cupcake Sam had presented.

“Oh yeah,” Bucky mumbled, hand raking through his hair nervously. “I’m something else, that’s for sure.”

“Well, keep _something else_ under control when you go out with my best friend, okay?” Sam said, teasing nature totally gone and serious now. Bucky’s eyes widened and Steve snarfed his cupcake.

“Sam!” he complained loudly, wiping the icing from where it had smeared onto his face. “We talked about this,” he said in a quieter but harshly whispered tone. Sam, to Steve’s apparent fury, just smiled and nodded at Bucky, definitely friendly again.

“Love your hair man,” he commented to Bucky, who was still dumbstruck. With that, Sam clapped Steve on the back. “Catch you later, man,” and with another smile, he was gone as quickly as he’d arrived. Bucky watched him leave just as Steve began sputtering apologies.

“I, Bucky, I’m so sorry. Sam’s such an ass, he promised me he wasn’t gonna do this.. I’m so sorry,” he rambled, cheeks turning redder with every word that passed his lips. To Steve’s surprise and his own, Bucky laughed.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, putting his hand on Steve’s shoulder and smiling broadly. It wasn’t even a forced smile; the love that Sam and Peggy had for Steve was really touching for Bucky. This kid, this sweet, decent kid, had people who loved and cared about him.

“What?” Steve said, surprised and blinking his baby blues at Bucky.

“Steve, Sam just cares about you. He doesn’t want you to go out with the wrong person,” Bucky explained, feeling a small weight of guilt in his chest as he was speaking. The wrong person? Bucky was an assassin…a goddamned assassin. But he didn’t have to think about that right now.. He’d tell Steve eventually. Coming clean with someone he cared about would be easy, when the time was right. But until that time, he couldn’t imagine burdening Steve with his secret. Or, would that be keeping things from Steve right off the bat? He’d have to talk to Nat later.

“Yeah, we’ve been best friends since freshman year in college,” Steve said, totally missing Bucky’s inner turmoil.

“I met your lady friend. Peggy?” Bucky said, smiling as the atmosphere between the two of them was casual once again.

“She said she was going to introduce herself,” Steve smiled, shaking his head. “I’m not surprised she’s done it already. Once she puts her mind to something, she gets it done.”

“She seemed really nice,” Bucky smiled. “So, about tomorrow,” he said, seeing Steve’s cheeks turn slightly pink at the mention. “How about I pick you up at 7?”

“I think that would be okay,” Steve said after a short pause as if he was pretending to consider the offer. “I’ll have to text you the address.”

“Are you going to stop by the shop and see me tomorrow?” Bucky asked, smirk on his lips as he was in full flirting mode now. Steve was getting better at giving it right back to him.

“Hmmm, I’m not sure,” Steve said, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he pretended to consider the offer. “What’s in it for me?”

There were a literal million things Bucky could have told him, but none of them were rated G enough for that conversation in that particular moment.

 

 

The next day, Steve had stopped to see him, and Bucky was reflecting on it as he got ready for his date. He cleaned his hands, scrubbed the doughy bits out of his special hand, and couldn’t stop the swell of excitement in his chest at the thought of going on a date with Steve.

That afternoon, Steve came in, dressed in joggers and a clingy shirt that made Bucky’s hands tingle. But other than his obscene appearance, Steve was adorable. He was blushy and kept smiling, looking at Bucky from underneath those gorgeous, thick lashes.

Bucky smiled as he thought about it. Steve said he was so excited for the date, for their date, for spending time with Bucky and Bucky alone. He couldn’t believe his luck. As he pulled a black V-neck shirt over his torso, he wondered if he should tidy up his apartment at all. Was there a chance he’d bring Steve back here tonight? _No,_ he thought firmly. He was going to take this boy out, show him a good time, hopefully keep his hands to himself, and drop him back off at his apartment at a decent hour. He was not going to bring Steve back here to have sex with him. Maybe someday, but not tonight, although Bucky couldn’t deny that he wanted it.

Shaking away his naughty thoughts, Bucky slipped on his best pair of jeans and a light jacket. He locked up his apartment and once in the car, programmed Steve’s address into his GPS. It would be a short drive, apparently. Before he was even out of his parking spot, he was worrying. Should he have brought flowers for Steve? Did people even do that anymore? Oh no, does Steve even like flowers? Is it okay for a guy to give another guy a bouquet? Bucky was so out of touch with the dating world; really, he wasn’t sure he could remember his last date, and also wasn’t sure that he cared to.

Before his panic could set in too deeply, though, a splash of color in his backseat caught his attention. He turned around while stopped at a red light and pulled back a small bouquet- mainly colorful daisies and one large sunflower in the middle. Attached was a sticky note, meant for Bucky no doubt. He recognized the messy scrawl right away.

_ALWAYS buy flowers on the first date, rookie._

 

Steve was ready at least 45 minutes before Bucky was set to pick him up. He’d combed his hair and meticulously kept his hands from raking through it every five minutes due to nerves. He took Peggy’s advice, donning his purple and green checkered button down, best khakis, and boat shoes. And he was nervous, good _GOD_ was he nervous. He’d never been one for dating—never really had time, or desire for that. So, he wasn’t really sure how this whole thing went. Should he expect hooking up? Should he expect a goodnight kiss? Hand holding? Car chase? Sharing dessert? He had literally no idea at all and for once was too bashful to ask Peggy. For good measure though, he stowed a chapstick in his pants pocket- just in case.

His doorbell rang at exactly 7:00—not that he’d been checking the time every twelve seconds—and Steve nervously smoothed out his khakis as he stood up. On shaky legs, he opened the door and felt his breath get caught up in his throat. Bucky looked like a goddamn model.

“Hi,” Bucky said, smiling at Steve with an expression that was nothing short of heart-eyes.

“Hi,” Steve echoed, cheeks already turning pink as he could feel bashfulness rising up in his chest. “You look great.” This time, it was Bucky’s turn to be bashful. He smiled at Steve before ducking down and looking nervously at the flowers in his hand.

“So do you. Here, Clint helped me pick them out,” he said, handing Steve the flowers.

“Oh gosh,” Steve said, genuinely surprised and pleased with this unexpected gift. He accepted them from Bucky, smelling them and smiling. “Thanks. These are beautiful. Let me get some water for them and we can go,” he ushered Bucky inside.

While Steve fussed with his flowers in the kitchen, Bucky looked around the apartment. It was small, but big enough for two people. Based on the amount of penny loafers on the mat by the door, Bucky would have ventured a guess that Sam lived here too. After looking on the wall and seeing pictures of Sam and assumed members of his family, Bucky decided this must be the case. Steve sat the flowers in the middle of the small, round kitchen table and smiled at them.

“They look fantastic there,” Bucky said, smiling at Steve. Ready to go?”

 

The ride to the restaurant was short, but filled with semi-awkward silence. Bucky wanted to punch himself for literally saying “nice weather we’re having”. It was like all the time he spent thinking about and wanting to kiss Steve had completely hindered his ability to actually talk to the man when they were together. UGH.

Little did he know, nervousness was swelling in Steve’s chest, too. Actually, it wasn’t just his chest. He felt it in his arms, and his legs, and his stomach, and his head. In fact, Steve would have thought it to be a miracle if he made it through the night without outright exploding.

Bucky pulled in at the restaurant, and after he got out, he took a second to compose himself. This was no different than talking to Steve at the bakery. He tried so hard to convince himself that this was fact. Steve got out about half a second after him, eyes shining, and big dopey smile on his face.

“This is my favorite place,” he said, shutting his door and joining Bucky on the other side.

“No way,” Bucky said, smiling and boldly taking Steve’s hand in his. “Lucky guess, huh?” Steve’s cheeks had turned magenta; Bucky was actually holding his hand. He wondered if he could form words if his mouth wasn’t so dry. Luckily, it didn’t seem like Bucky had expected an answer. He took Steve by the hand and led him into the restaurant.

The place was called _Anthony’s,_ and was essentially a tacky-as-all-get out place with a dark, mahogany bar and booths. Twinkly lights were hung from the ceiling and retro posters and neon signs decorated the rest of the walls. A small stage was pushed against the far wall, for when the place hired local bands to provide music entertainment on Friday nights. The staff was dressed casually, in t-shirts and jeans, giving the place a comfortable atmosphere.

Once inside, Bucky looked at Steve and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Where’s your favorite place to sit?”

If Steve’s cheeks could get any pinker, they did. Inside, he cursed for being so transparent around this man. Outside, he just smiled like a goofball, and led Bucky to the corner farthest from the stage. When he came here with Peggy, Sam, and Angie, they always sat here. Memories flashed before Steve’s eyes—the time Angie ordered the biggest milkshake they had, despite Peggy’s warning, then upon realizing the shake was too big, made Peggy share it with her. With a start, Steve realized that this event was over a year ago, and Peggy had been gone for that girl then.

Bucky sat across from Steve, and after the waitress set them up with drinks and food orders, he looked at the blond and smirked.

“So, tell me about you.”

To Steve’s surprise, there had been a lot to tell. He told Bucky about his parents, and explained more in depth of how much Peggy had helped him. He explained Sam, and how they’d been paired up as roommates in college. Bucky listened to everything, eagerly, never taking his eyes off Steve. Somehow that made Steve tingle inside. It wasn’t as though no one ever listened to Steve. No, he had great friends and great co-workers who did listen and genuinely care when he spoke. But this was different, being under that steely blue and unwavering gaze. Bucky’s gaze was very intense, and this was as responsible for the tingling inside him as anything else.

When the conversation turned to Bucky, it flowed nearly just as easily, although on the drive over Bucky had taken advantage of the silence to construct his life story- excluding all the assassin parts. He told him about his sisters and his parents; it was surprising to the both of them that they had none. He told Steve about the great people who were Nat and Clint, he talked about his favorite color, his favorite movie, and how much he loved the bakery. Steve hung on every word.

 

 _He’s been smiling a lot. That has to be a good sign,_ Bucky thought to himself about an hour later as he and Steve were enjoying ice cream cones from the boardwalk and sitting on the bench overlooking the river. _Shit, he could just be smiling to be nice._

As if Steve was a goddamned mind reader, he spoke just then.

“I’m having a really nice time,” he said, and the genuine syllables he put into his words made Bucky’s heart feel like it would explode.

“Yeah, me too,” Bucky responded, sliding his arm over Steve’s shoulder. It wasn’t uncomfortable, and it wasn’t forced. Steve fit against Bucky just right, like they had been made for this position with each other.

The night was beautiful. It was clear, and from this vantage point on the river, the stars were just visible overhead. The smell of funnel cakes and cotton candy wafted around them, and the light fog on the river finished the effect, making Steve and Bucky both feel like they were in a sweet-filled fog that was just their own.

After Steve finished his cone, he leaned against Bucky more, head nestling the Brunet’s shoulder.

“I love it when I can see the stars,” he murmured, eyes up towards the heavens.

“It’s always weird for me to think that people get to see them all the time. No city lights in the way,” Bucky said, ripping his eyes from Steve and looking up at the sky. “I’ve heard the sky looks even bigger when you’re out in the country.”

“We should go there,” Steve said, a small smile at his lips. “You know, one day, so we can see the stars and the big sky.” Bucky would be lying if his heart didn’t nearly beat right out of his chest. This sounded an awful lot like planning another outing.

“Yes, we should,” Bucky answered, looking back down at Steve, to find those baby blues already boring into his face.

The look the two of them shared was so tender, so intimate, that they both felt naked. All was quiet in the world for a moment and all that existed was Steve and Bucky. Everything felt right and good. The noise from behind them trickled away, like the boys were in their own fish-bowl of privacy; it felt a lot like it had the first time Bucky ever saw Steve. And then, after a few moments, Bucky closed the small gap between them, and kissed Steve for the very first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cecie is the best friend a gal could ask for. I'm so lucky to be working on this project with her :)
> 
> What did you guys think of this?? I had a BLAST writing this chapter!


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the set up for the end of the story-- the next chapters will be much more action packed.

Steve swore they kissed at least ten times, and the thought alone was enough to make him feel fuzzy inside. As he laid in bed that night, he replayed every moment, every touch, in his head. Bucky’s lips were so soft, and the stubble on his cheeks and chin was just enough to feel a bit ticklish and not too scratchy. Steve knew then that he could kiss this man for forever.

But that arm.. the metal arm, it bothered Steve. Certainly not the arm itself, no, Steve thought it was a marvel by the way it worked and looked like a regular arm, for the most part. It bothered him because Bucky seemed to hate it. In the time they were out, Steve was kept on Bucky’s right, away from the metal arm. Surely, with that behavior, the arm bothered Bucky, and that’s what bothered Steve. He didn’t want Bucky to be bothered. He didn’t want Bucky to be upset over something he couldn’t change anymore. Of course, that was simple for Steve to think; he did have both his actual arms after all. He rolled over, nuzzling against his soft pillow. He wanted to ask about the arm, he did. But, he didn’t think it was appropriate. Bucky would talk to him about it when he was ready to share. Steve yawned, rubbing his eyes and thanking his lucky stars that he didn’t have to go into work tomorrow.

Once he’d gotten home, he was on the phone with Peggy for at least four hours. They discussed his date, overanalyzed everything, and spent the rest of the time talking about Peggy and Angie. Apparently, after their rendezvous the other day, Angie had been finding excuses to come into Peggy’s room. “Have you seen my blue sweater?” “What about my red heels?”. And Peggy, as stubborn as she was, just insisted that Angie was forgetful, which was true. But it was also true that Angie adored Peggy.

Steve smiled as he thought about it. For once in his life, Peggy Carter, the strong, brave, authoritative woman was more clueless than he was. It wasn’t really her fault, though. After a particularly bad relationship during their senior year of high school, she’d sworn off dating. All through college, the years after, and to the present, Peggy stayed single. Steve had always thought the person to throw Peggy for a loop and make her fall in love (if she took that path, of course), would be some guy with movie-star good looks and a brain to match. Instead, it was Angie Martinelli. Sweet, petite, sassy, and ambitious Angie. Hindsight being what it is, Steve couldn’t see a more perfect match.

Except, maybe, him and Bucky.

 

The next day, Bucky was barely through the door to the shop and Clint was on him.

“How did it go? Did you get my flowers? Did you kiss him? Where did you guys go? Did you use a condom? Did—“ He was firing off questions before Bucky could even open his mouth to answer them. He was only stopped when Bucky clamped a hand over his mouth.

“Jesus, Clint, can I walk through the door?” Bucky asked, chuckling at his friend’s excitement. Hand still over Clint’s mouth, he led his friend back to the kitchen. “It went very well. I did kiss him, but we didn’t have sex,” he said, once in the safety of the kitchen.

“Good,” Nat said from the office. “Sleeping with our customers is bad for business.”

“Not if you’re good at it, I’d argue,” Bucky fired right back. There was a short pause.

“You’ve got a point.”

“Where did you take him?” Clint asked, hopping up and sitting onto the counter, swinging his legs in excited anticipation. Bucky sighed playfully, shaking his head and putting his jacket on the coat rack near the office door. Apparently, there was no escaping Barton’s questioning. Looks like Bucky would have to kiss and tell for the first time.

“We went to a place called _Anthony’s_. It’s this pretty tacky place and it turns out it was his favorite,” Bucky said, smiling as he remembered.

“I’ve heard of that place,” Nat commented, still in the office. “Retro with Christmas lights and all that.”

“So, I guess he’s taking the truth about your job pretty well then, huh?” Clint asked, fumbling a bit with his hair.

“I actually haven’t told him yet,” Bucky said, and dead silence followed. Clint stared, wide-eyed and open mouthed. Nat rolled her chair back in the office so she was looking out the door at Bucky, a half stunned and half worried look on her features.

“You haven’t told him,” she repeated and Bucky nodded.

“Right. I haven’t told him,” he confirmed.

“This is a shit storm waiting to happen man,” Clint told him, shaking his head in disbelief. “Did you lie?”

“No, I didn’t lie! I just, I didn’t tell him what I did other than working here. Not exactly first date discussion if you ask me,” he said, defending himself against this unexpected attack. Clint and Nat were agents—spies for crying out loud! Of course they knew somethings needed to be hidden until the time is right. Nat out of the three of them knew it best.

She sighed, chewing absentmindedly on her pen.

“I know, it’s for the best,” she said, nodding. “Just.. just don’t wait too long to tell him, okay? He seems like he’s gonna be sticking around for a while.”

Bucky sighed, and looked at the list of what needed to be made for the day. He didn’t want to tell Steve about his real job yet—for a number of reasons. First, he didn’t want to scare Steve. He wanted Steve to know him, Bucky, the guy, not the Winter Soldier. Secondly, if something were to happen (and Bucky prayed nothing would), and the two would not work out, it could end very badly for everyone involved if Steve knew Bucky was an assassin and decided to share this information. Third, it really is bad conversation. They met about a week ago, it would be too early to dump that kind of news onto someone.

“I won’t wait long Nat, okay?” he said, defeated. He knew Steve had to know, but he didn’t have to know just yet.

In order to lighten the mood, Clint, bless his soul, passed Bucky the day’s newspaper. The mysterious death of Lieutenant Dox was on the front page.

 

The next few weeks contained a flurry of goofy smiles and giggling from both Steve and Bucky, as well as partially-amused-but-growing-more-irritated-and-disgusted-by-the-day attitudes from Nat and Sam, respectively. Clint, being the secret gossip and wingman that he was, had to know absolutely every detail. He and Bucky would spend their mornings baking for the day and analyzing conversations Bucky had with Steve.

Additionally, Steve started making himself a regular at the bakery and Bucky’s apartment. He’d spent the night on their second date, although it was the most atypical “spending the night” story any of them had ever heard. They had been hanging out, Steve and Bucky, sprawled out on Bucky’s couch. It wasn’t late, hardly passed 8pm, and the pair was enjoying Chinese takeout, arguing over which movie to watch. Steve, forever the art nerd, wanted to watch an animated movie so he could gawk at the animation. Bucky, though, wanted something fast-paced with explosions. There didn’t seem to be a compromise, and a stalemate ensued. Not one, however, that forbade kissing, because as it turned out, the boys fell asleep whilst trying to kiss the other into submission.

Sam secretly loved it. He loved that Steve was so happy, he loved that he had such a spring in his step, and he loved Bucky, although they didn’t know each other quite well enough yet to be “bros”. Outwardly though, he busted Steve over his lovesickness. Steve would constantly be checking his phone for snapchats or texts, and would constantly be giggling and trying to tell Sam about what Bucky had sent him. That’s just how Sam was though, he was a goofball. He didn’t really like to be serious, as his life has far too much of that in it. He wanted to be happy and let loose, and although Steve acted as though his feelings were hurt when Sam would tease him, they both knew it was in good fun.

Nat had known Bucky longer than Clint, and she had never seen Bucky so happy. The friendly smile that was on his face was there even more often these days. It didn’t matter to her that Steve always hung around; quite frankly, she liked the kid. Steve was nice and funny, and if he continued putting that smile on Bucky’s face, well then, he could stay as long as he wanted to. But there was the issue of Bucky’s real job. Though the assassination of Dox had gone by swiftly and without any hiccups, they wouldn’t all be like that, and there would be more, although when more assignments would be given remained unseen for the most part.

It was hard, Nat knew, living this double life. Hard was an understatement, really, exhausting sounded more like it. Bucky’s secret wouldn’t go away overnight, and no matter when Bucky decided to tell Steve, there would still be awkward questions of “why didn’t you tell me before?” and “how long have you been hiding this”? It wouldn’t be pretty at first, of course, but Nat was hard-pressed to believe anything could tear the two apart.

 

Although she’s Natasha Romanov, she’s not always right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course, i couldn't have done this without Cecie. She's great.

**Author's Note:**

> Alright! Chapter one- done! Couldn't have done this without my girl Cecie (tumblr: http://glittrbuck.tumblr.com/ ). Give her a follow, she's fantastic. 
> 
> Also, please leave feedback either here or at my tumblr ( http://but-im-danger.tumblr.com/ ), and give me a follow too, if you'd like. 
> 
> Constructive criticism only, please. I've clearly tagged what ships will be present in this fic, so no hate on those. It's better to help and build up than it is to tear down. 
> 
> :)<3


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